Crossing Lines
I smiled, slow and deliberate, and turned to face them.
When they met my gaze, I didn’t blink. I lifted my hand in a small wave, tilting my head as if to say, yes, he’s mine. And no, you never stood a chance.
Their laughter died like a candle snuffed out.
Nathan leaned closer, his lips grazing my ear. “What was that?”
“Just cleaning up the fallout from a fitting room massacre,” I murmured.
He chuckled, deep and low. “God, I love when you play dirty.”